In Which Javert Hears Some Unsavory News
by Abe Lincoln Lover
Summary: Exactly as the title says. WARNING: Not actually good. At all. Like, please please please don't read this it's actually reallllllly bad.


_In Which Javert Hears Some Unsavory News_

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Javert trudged up the creaky wooden staircase, the only sound heard being the solemn "tap tap" of his shoes against the planks. He reached, eventually, the top, and not without a singular sense of foreboding, opened wide the door. His hat in the crook of his arm - a customary politeness - he announced his presence. "Madame, you have summoned Inspector Javert?"

Her wrinkled, worn eyes searched to find him through her blindness. Age had not been well on her. She gave up after a few slow, painful moments and gave a deep, heartbroken sigh. "Oh, Javert. I only do wish that you will call me 'Maman'."

"What a mother you have been to me!" he sneered. "Abandoning me in the streets to fend for myself!"

"It wasn't like that!" she wailed. "I had gone to buy us some food and when I had returned, you had gone!"

"The food market was not in that direction, _Madame_," he gritted out, at the end of his patience. Despite his clear anger at her, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "So what were you _actually_ doing, if not abandoning me? I am a police inspector now, and you _will_ answer to me!"

"Oh, Javert! Truly, must you know?"

"I have wondered but my whole life. Surely you will be gracious and tell me now!" he insisted, demanding and commanding.

"Fine - oh fine," her tone was elderly, like those nice grandmas down the street that always bake you cookies. Come to think of it, she probably did bake cookies back when she was able to walk. And she probably handed them out to everyone, too. She was just that type of person. "But you must promise not to be too upset."

He mused, "_Too_ upset? I am upset already..."

"Now, now, my son... you see, I have been hiding something from you. Your - our - surname... well, it is not Javert, like I told you it was." She ignored the slight gasp that came from Javert. "Javert is your first name."

"Indeed," he cried out indignantly.

"Yes, yes, as I was saying. Your name is Javert. But your last name... Javert, your last name is Valjean."

"What is this lie that you speak, damnable woman!" He rose to his feet and to a tremendous height, heat and ire overrunning his conscious. "Surely you do not jest! But this must - absolutely must - be a falsehood! Woman, say it is not so and I will be on my way."

"Oh, but it is true! You even have a twin brother as well! His name is -"

"Please, tell me it is not -"

"- Jean! And oh! He looks so much like his father now!"

He stopped. "Has he visited you?"

"Every week, religiously. What a good man he has grown to be. A better son than you have ever been," she sniffed.

"What!" He cried. "What! Woman, Madame, whoever you are! - are you telling me that you have been in contact with him for all these years? And you somehow forgot to mention all of this to me? Without even a thought to poor, old Inspector Javert, you laid in rest, sleeping and forgetting, now did you! Ah, well. I see how it is. A better son, humph! Was there not a nineteen year gap where he had forgotten to come?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "Oh, oh no! Never! Jean would never forget his Maman in such a dreadful way! Every week since he and I parted, he came and sat here with me, reading me stories and telling me the news. There has not been a single week he has missed!" She sung the last sentence like it was part of an a chant during Mass.

"Madame," she cast him a stern look but he went on anyway, "Madame, are you not aware that he went to jail for almost twenty years? He is a criminal, even currently. He broke his parole and is still wanted."

"No!" She cried, legitimately, "No! You lie!"

"I swear to you, and to God, that I tell only the truth."

"Gahhh," she choked, before falling back into her pillow. Javert met her eyes as they rolled back into her skull.

She was dead.

Javert placed his fist to his forehead as he felt a migraine coming on. He muttered in an aggravated whisper, "Why does this _keep happening_?"

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_Fin_

**AN: Wellll I just got bored halfway through. It's all really crappy, honestly. I wrote it 1) during school, 2) when I was tired, and then 3) at night after doing homework when my brain was complete mush. And to say the truth, the whole concept is sort of stupid. Javert and Valjean aren't twins. Thank God. And I have no idea how Valjean managed to escape from jail once a week to visit Maman but HE DID IT SOMEHOW OKAY? Just roll with it and everything will be okay.**


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